


Of Migraines and Stubborness

by Ice20



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice20/pseuds/Ice20
Summary: It didn't happen often. Once, twice per year maybe. Luka considered himself lucky enough.





	Of Migraines and Stubborness

**Author's Note:**

> A/N #0: Set before an important match not better defined. Could be whatever you want, whenever you want. It's up to you!  
> Also, this could be read as Luka/Ivan, or simply as them being very good friends. Once again, I leave it to you!
> 
> A/N #1: It's been two years since I last wrote a fanfiction - and it wasn't even for a RPF fandom. So I just hope this doesn't completely sucks, and I apologize for any mistakes you could find. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> A/N #2: It took a foreign national team and a small cute captain for me to try and write again. And you know what? Right now I'm completely obsessed with Croatia NT, and Luka, and I haven't felt better in a while!
> 
> WARNINGS: Hurt/comfort, sick!fic, migraines, bittersweet ending.

It didn't happen often. Once, twice per year maybe. Luka considered himself lucky enough.

Every once in a while, Luka would be laid low by a migraine. It had been happening ever since he could remember, ever since he was a child. According to his parents, it hadn't actually always been there; the migraine had begun only after the conflict had suffocated his family, and they had been forced to leave their house, after little Luka's life had been shaken so hard everything seemed suddenly upside-down.

At the very beginning, the migraines had been unbearable, so powerful he would cry, begging his parents to make the pain stop. One of the few, overworked doctors left in Zadar tiredly made the diagnosis after he had fainted in his mother's arms after having thrown up repeatedly. It had been very debilitating, for a child already so frail and small, and even more given their limited access to the right medications.

However, as time passed and Luka's life became a little more stable, he had learnt how to recognize the symptoms and, as much as possible, how to contain the migraines, whose frequency was beginning to slowly lesson. They still happened quite often, but no more than once per week, and sometimes even only twice a month. He had been able to start playing football again, even though his coaches were quite worried, especially after they witnessed the beginning - yes, it was only the beginning - of one of his migraines happening. Back then, Luka was forced to just being relegated watching the other kids playing much more often than he would have liked, and yet he made treasure of every opportunity to play he was given.

Still, he managed to show the sparkle that was already there, waiting to blossom in full force years later. The magic was there, just under the surface, only waiting for the right moment to be finally let free, and when he was a teenager, finally - finally - someone saw it. And so, his career had slowly begun.

Being a professional footballer and, at the same time, having to deal with such a debilitating issue, one that caused light sensitivity, nausea, throbbing headaches accompanied by a tension that began from his skull and affected his whole neck, wasn't easy but Luka knew he was luckier than many other people with the same problem. He didn't have a routinary day job, matches only interested a few days each year. Of course he had to train almost every day, but having made his situation known to the club - and to the club and his teammates only, 'cause God forbid word about it reaching journalists indiscreet ears - he was cleared to skip training days if necessity arose.

So far, he had never missed a match, not even the least important ones.

And this is what made it so much worse, that it was happening now, before one of the most important matches of his entire life. When he had to play for his national team, significantly.

Luka had felt it coming earlier that morning, as he woke up in the room he shared with Danijel. The sun wasn't fully up, yet what few light made it past the drawn curtains was enough to make him whimper. Suba, always a light sleeper, had woken up immediately; understanding what was happening - he could still remember it, even after all these years, from when he had met Luka as a kid - he had run to Ivan's room to alert him, and then immediately to Dalić. Together, they had managed to gently coax Luka out of bed and helped him take the maximum amount of painkillers allowed, even though Luka was already resigned to his faith. He had understood, from the moment he had opened his eyes, that his was one of the bad ones.

He only wished it would lessen significantly before the match.

Still, he had oh-so-slowly joined the others to breakfast, appreciating everyone's effort to keep as quiet as possible. Even Vida had been strangely silent, Sime and Dejan giving him worried looks as he sat down, and Mario had asked a woman of the hotel staff to close the curtains in the breakfast room a little and switch off some lights, please. Ivan had brought him tea and a few biscuits, something light - Luka's rearmost desire had been to throw up.

After breakfast, Dalić had tried to convince him to just stay in his room and take it easy, but Luka had refused. He could be extremely stubborn, sometimes. Difficult, Ivan would call him good-naturedly. But he was the captain of the team, he were to set an example for his teammates. He had to prove he was worthy of this task, as difficult and painful as it might be.

So he had trained with the others, even though he felt like he was moving slow, way too slow, and with much more effort than should have been necessary. He had kept on his dark sunglasses the whole time, and that, in hindsight, should have been enough to tip him off. Everyone had been careful to avoid any contact with him, they had all slowed down their pace as they run, they had made sure to pass him the ball only if they couldn't avoid it, otherwise leaving him be. He felt so lucky, having such a supporting and understanding team. 

Yet despite everyone's best effort, after a little more than an hour Dalić had literally marched towards him and intimated him to go back to his room, to lay down before he fainted. He was as pale as a ghost, the coach had said, much to everyone's agreement.

So Luka had gone back and napped in the dark, skipping lunch altogether, waking up feeling even worse than in the morning. He had anticipated the worsening conditions, yet it had surprised him how extremely low he was feeling. It had taken him fifteen minutes only to get out of bed, always under the watchful eye of Ivan, who had pressed his lips in a thin, unhappy line.

And now here he was, already wearing his uniform, huddled in his jacket even though it was a pleasantly warm evening, laying on the pleasantly cool floor in a dark unused room of the German stadium where they would begin paying in half a hour.

Luka had felt his knees buckle just as they had all gotten to the locker room to change and begin their warm-up, and he had done his best not to show it - this mach was just too important - but of course Ivan had noticed it immediately, and Danijel had been so worried his usually firm hands were shaking. Mateo had suggested finding him a quiet room to stay in as they all went to warm up, and Dalić had agreed, having Ivan accompany him right where he was now.

An ice-pack on his temples wasn't really helping, and Luka was shaking in frustration a bit more every passing minute. Not even Ivan's calming, gentle presence was enough to calm him.

"I'll stay", Ivan had said, sitting down next to him.

"You should go and warm-up with the others. This is an important match, and you know it", Luka had shakily replied.

"Not as important as you are".

Tears had threatened to spill from Luka's eyes, and only sheer determination had prevented it occurring. Ivan was now rubbing gentle circles on Luka's back, sometimes caressing his hair tenderly as Luka's head rested in his lap, his nose buried in Ivan's belly in an intimate yet completely innocent contact. Ivan was used to seeing Luka like this from time to time, yet it seemed to be something he could never get accustomed to.

The door of the small room slowly opened, Dalić's figure appearing. He took in the sight before him, sighing slowly at the doleful sight of his team's captain, today more fragile than ever, flinching at the light coming in from the corridor behind him, and yet not ready to give up. Luka's dutyfulness amazed him and he admired him more than ever, though he knew that, Luka being Luka, he was probably blaming himself for being weak because of something he couldn't control.

"It's almost time", he all but whispered.

Luka let out a pained moan, his fists clenching and his muscles contracting. "It can't be", he groaned, trying to turn on his back to better look at his coach, and immediately wincing and feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.

Immediately Ivan stilled him.

"Shh", he murmured, holding Luka.

"I have to get up", the shorter man said, making another useless attempt.

This time, it was Dalić who kneeled down and put an hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him so that he was laying down once again. A sob escaped Luka's lips, and only then he noticed that he had started crying. When had he begun? Shame and rage were now piling on the ever growing ache behind his eyes, and he felt like the young kid he once was, tiny and impotent to do nothing.

"Luka, please calm down", Ivan said, pressing his lips against Luka's temple, cold from when the ice, now fallen on the floor, was once pressed.

"But I need to -"

"You need to listen to Ivan, and to me", Dalić said, his most authoritative voice a stark contrast with his long fingers gently squeezing Luka's shoulder.

Fresh tears escaped his eyes. Luke had never felt so miserable before in his entire life.

"You can't even get on your feet, how could you play this match?" Ivan tried to reason.

"Besides, the whole team would worry more about you than our opponents, and we really can't afford that to happen, can we?" Dalić said, almost like he was trying to reason with a stubborn child.

"But I have to do my part. It's my duty as a player, and even more as a captain. What am I worth for, then?" Luka sobbed, now more frustrated than anything. His smaller body was a heating furnace against Ivan's, yet a cold sweat was covering his forehead.

"You're the best captain our team could ask for, Lukita", Ivan said with so much tenderness. "But now you have to trust us to do our job. We will win this game, for you. Do you trust us - do you trust me - to do it?"

With no hesitation at all, Luka nodded vigorously despite the pain that the movement caused, and went as far as to open his eyes the slightest bit to look at Ivan. He would trust his team, and Dalić , and Ivan most of all, with his life. He could trust them with this game also, he decided. He took in Ivan's worried yet reassuring expression, then Dalić's expectant one, and he nodded again. With great sorrow, he forced his fisted hands to let go of Ivan's jersey.

"You should go", he whispered, resigned. A lone tear escaped his eye, but he swiped it away. Dalić and Ivan pretended not to see it.

Ivan planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, and gently jostled him in order to slip out from under Luka's body, and get on his feet.

Meanwhile, Dalić took off his jacket and made a pillow for Luka to rest his head on.

"I'll make sure someone of our staff gets here within five minutes and stays with you the whole time, okay? And if you need anything, tell them. Try and sleep a little bit, see if it gets better", Dalić said, though he knew it was easier said than done, and turned to leave.

Ivan made to follow him, but not before he gently caressed Luka's hair once again.

"I will win for you, Luka. If there's someone who deserves it, it's you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and talk to me on my tumblr :) [IceDrifter](http://www.icedrifter.tumblr.com)


End file.
